


your smile reminds me of a place i can't put my finger on (so just say the word and i'm gone)

by infinite_space_ace



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Introspection, M/M, Romantic Fluff, adam is mentioned a few times, added at the end as a treat, if they won't speak to each other in canon then i'll simply make them, joe and miya are also mentioned but only once and in the same sentence, no beta as usual, or at least it starts out that way, the spirit of renga possessed my mortal body and i produced this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:13:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29896806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinite_space_ace/pseuds/infinite_space_ace
Summary: It isn’t that he’s jealous of his best friend. It would never be something as petty as that. It’s just. It’s just, that when he sees how far Langa has come in such a short amount of time, thoughts begin to creep into his head. Thoughts that tell him he isn’t good enough and that he will never be good enough, so what’s the point in trying to begin with? Reki Kyan thinks that it is simply impossible for him to catch up — not even just to Langa, but to everyone who’s good enough to skate at S — so he does the only thing he can think to do.Reki Kyan gives up. He leaves the tournament after Langa’s skate against Joe, and when he gets to the front gates he gives up the only thing that gives him a chance, no, a shred of hope to compete against someone who could challenge him to be better.Or: Reki and Langa finally talk out their emotions to one another, because they didn't in this Saturday's episode and I am. Tearing my hair out in frustration.
Relationships: Hasegawa Langa/Kyan Reki
Comments: 13
Kudos: 160





	your smile reminds me of a place i can't put my finger on (so just say the word and i'm gone)

**Author's Note:**

> hello there sk8 fandom!! it has been a whole three months since i've written something here, but i'm back and with some renga hurt/comfort after today's episode! i needed a fix-it fic and so i took matters into my own hands, hehe. i hope you enjoy!
> 
> (title taken from luv note by chloe moriondo)

Here is the thing about Reki Kyan.

He lives and breathes skating. Minutes turn into hours and hours turn into days, days turn into months and months turn into years when he’s focused on practicing. He wants so _desperately_ to be good enough to compete against the best at S. He has the bruises and the broken skin to show that, after all.

This is not to say that Reki Kyan isn’t good at his craft. He’s worked so hard for so many years at this one thing, and dedication like that simply doesn’t have the ability to, well, for lack of a better phrase, _not_ pay off in any way. 

Reki Kyan is _amazing_ at what he does — whether that thing is skating or building boards or teaching his best friend how to skate — it is just that Reki Kyan does not see this, does not _understand_ this, himself.

Contrary to (fairly) popular belief, Reki Kyan is not stupid. You can’t be, to be able to skate as well as he does. He knows that the progress he’s made is an incredible and rare thing all on its own, and that it isn’t something to be taken lightly. He _knows_ all of these things, and yet. 

And yet, what is he in the face of an extraordinary talent like Langa Hasegawa? How can he ever hope to compare to someone who mastered an ollie in just two weeks, when the same thing took him a whole two _months_? 

It isn’t that he’s jealous of his best friend. It would _never_ be something as petty as that. It’s just. It’s _just,_ that when he sees how far Langa has come in such a short amount of time, thoughts begin to creep into his head. Thoughts that tell him he _isn’t good enough_ and that he will _never be good enough,_ so what’s the point in trying to begin with? Reki Kyan thinks that it is simply impossible for him to catch up — not even just to Langa, but to _everyone_ who’s good enough to skate at S — so he does the only thing he can think to do.

Reki Kyan gives up. He leaves the tournament after Langa’s skate against Joe, and when he gets to the front gates he gives up the only thing that gives him a chance, no, a _shred_ of hope to compete against someone who could challenge him to be better.

The pin. The very same one he made a fuss about when Langa didn’t seem to grasp just how important and _amazing_ being given one really was. The memory stings more than it should. Langa was just beginning to skate then, after all — almost every time he set foot on the skateboard, he would bail. The difference now, Reki thinks to himself much later, alone with nothing but his own mind, is that Langa has always had the strength and motivation to get back up afterwards. Langa skates both with and against the best of the best every day, and instead of choosing the cowardly way out like Reki has, he gets up off the ground and he strives to be better, to do even just a _little bit more_ each time. 

Langa has gone where Reki can’t follow, and so Reki pushes him away before Langa gets the chance to finally leave him behind. And Langa _will_ leave him behind, Reki has told himself for days now, convinced himself that this is undeniably true. It makes perfect sense, after all. Langa was insistent on skating against Adam in the tournament, and why else would he want to do something so reckless, so _dangerous,_ if not because Reki isn’t fun to skate with anymore, isn’t _good_ enough?

Reki Kyan, despite himself, despite _everything_ his mind convinces him of, misses Langa so much it aches in his chest. It shouldn’t, but his heart doesn’t feel the same way his mind does. His heart tells him he should go back to the tournament, go back to _Langa_ and beg for him to stay by Reki’s side, but he can’t. Langa can’t promise him something like that, not when there are so many other, better skaters he could choose instead, but Reki wants him to anyway. _Oh_ how Reki wants him to.

Carefully placing one foot in front of the other, Reki Kyan makes his way home. He didn’t bother to bring his board with him, but even if he had, Reki thinks with a wry smile, he wouldn’t have the heart to skate home. Not after today, hell, not after these past _few_ days. 

The walk home goes by much faster as he’s lost in thought, and before he knows it, Reki is standing in front of his and Langa’s old meeting spot. Whoever got there first would patiently wait for the other to arrive, and they would walk (and eventually, skate) to school together.

It’s feels stupid to miss something so simple, but Reki finds his eyes burning as he walks by it. Reki associated this spot with Langa, with his best friend, with _happiness,_ before, but now it reminds him of terrified words shouted in the rain. 

_“I don’t get excited! I’m scared,”_ he had said then, and Langa had only looked at him with confusion in his eyes in response. He didn’t _get it,_ not even after Adam hurt his arm in a race, and it was frustrating. Reki wanted Langa to understand, to stay away from Adam so that he wouldn’t get hurt the same way he had and quit skating for good, Reki wanted Langa _back._

All too suddenly, Reki hears his name called out in the dark, and he doesn’t need to turn around to see who is doing the shouting. 

“Reki!” Langa yells, and Reki wonders how his name can sound like something so precious on Langa’s tongue. “I found you!”

He sounds happy, _excited,_ even, and Reki pauses in his steps. _How can that be,_ he thinks, _how can it be that he’s happy to see me?_

He must have stayed stopped on the sidewalk for longer than he intended to, because before Reki knows what to do with himself a hand is laid gently on his shoulder. Almost out of instinct, he turns around, and Langa’s face is in front of him, and it’s too fast, too _much._ Reki isn’t ready to talk to Langa, not yet. He’s told himself that he would eventually, but faced with his mistakes this soon feels overwhelming. A traitorous voice somewhere deep inside his mind whispers that he wouldn’t ever be ready to have this conversation. And there is truth in that, Reki supposes. 

“Reki?” Langa asks, somehow softer this time, and Reki actually meets his eyes now. 

“What do you want?” Reki asks, harsher than he means it to be, and yet he can’t help himself. He’s frustrated that Langa hadn’t understood what he was trying so hard to say that day, yes, but he also _can’t_ be the one to start this conversation. He doesn’t have the energy to explain himself again. He needs Langa to guide him, and he’ll follow.

Langa will lead, and Reki will, inevitably, follow. 

“I,” Langa hesitates for just a moment. He shakes his head quickly, and barrels forward. “I wanted- no, I needed to talk to you.”

Reki feigns ignorance. It’s easier that way. “What about?” he asks, though it comes out as more of a flat statement than a question.

“Lots of things,” Langa answers. “Why didn’t you stay after the race?”

Reki… doesn’t really have an answer for him. Or, he _does,_ but it’s hard to say out loud. Langa will probably say that he’s being dumb, and Reki really doesn’t want to hear that, is _terrified_ of hearing that. So he chooses to say nothing, and averts his gaze to the side of Langa’s face instead of meeting his eyes. It helps.

Langa pulls his hand away from Reki’s shoulder, and something in Reki’s heart begins to crack at the simple motion. Langa speaks up again before Reki breaks and asks him to put it back.

“You yelled my name back there,” Langa starts. “I didn’t feel as excited as I normally do, and I couldn’t figure out why. Going up against Joe _should’ve_ felt good, but it didn’t.”

Reki startles a little. _So that’s why he seemed so… spaced out in the middle of the race? But I thought going against people like that was what he wanted._ He meets Langa’s eyes again. He can’t help it. Reki, no matter where they stand with one another, is drawn to Langa like a moth to a flame.

Langa must see confusion in Reki’s gaze, confusion he didn’t mean to show, and he chuckles lightly. Reki’s stomach flips at the sound. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long, but I think I know why that is, now,” he says, quiet. “Will you listen?”

And as much as Reki is afraid of what he’ll say, he replies with a soft and hesitant “yes.” _If it’s you, I’ll always listen,_ his heart whispers, almost reverently. 

Langa fidgets with his hands before starting. The unease that’s been growing in the pit of Reki’s stomach rises higher, and there is so much of it now that he feels like running, but he forces himself to stay in spite of it.

“Before, I thought that entering the tournament would make me excited. And it did, at first, but when I actually started competing it wasn’t as fun anymore. I didn’t really get why, because the first time I went up against Adam I felt excitement, and I figured it would feel the same this time too. But it didn’t, and it was confusing.”

Langa pauses, and Reki doesn’t know how to feel. 

“Why wasn’t it… exciting, anymore?” he asks, genuinely lost. The first, and _only_ time, he thinks angrily, that he skated against Adam, he didn’t feel excited. He felt _scared,_ and he doesn’t get how anyone could feel anything else, but he’ll play along, for now.

Langa smiles. Reki thinks the air is knocked out of his lungs. “That part’s easy,” he says, with more confidence than before. “You weren’t there with me.”

“What?” Reki blurts out. _What?_ That’s not right, it _can’t_ be. Someone as brilliant and naturally talented as Langa doesn’t need someone as useless as Reki, so why is he saying this as if he does? “What do you mean, _you weren’t there with me?”_

“Reki,” Langa whispers, gently reaching for his hand. Reki lets him take it. He couldn’t refuse Langa anything even if he desperately wants to right now. “ _You’re_ the reason skating was as fun as it was. I only felt motivated to win when you called my name. If I’m skating, I need you there beside me.”

Reki lets out a breath, not knowing what to say. He hadn’t expected… any of _this._ Langa _needs_ him? 

“How- what? Why would you need _me?_ I can’t keep up with you, or Adam, or Joe, or Miya, or anyone.”

Langa frowns, and Reki’s heart hurts. He can’t help but feel as if he’s said something wrong. Is that… not right? Reki _is_ too far behind them all, that’s just a fact.

“Back then, why did you say we weren’t a good match anymore?” Langa asks, his eyebrows still pinched together. “I meant to ask you, but…” he trails off. Reki doesn’t blame him. He can fill in the blanks himself.

“Because,” Reki starts, and stops just as quickly. He doesn’t know how to put this. He’s afraid of even saying it out loud, but Langa’s been so honest with him, so he figures he at least owes it to Langa to try.

“You’ve made a lot of progress these past few weeks,” he says. “And of course I’m… proud of you, for that, but…”

“But…?” Langa prompts, gently.

The threat of tears burns behind Reki’s eyes. “But I can’t help but feel… left behind,” he chokes out, and _oh no,_ he can feel the tears finally start to run down his cheeks. He sucks in a breath, tries his hardest to stop them from falling, but he can’t. Reki ducks his head.

Langa clicks his tongue, and with his free hand, he gently lifts Reki’s chin up. “Oh, _Reki,”_ he whispers, and it’s too much, it’s all too much. Breath hitching on a sob, Reki knocks his head against Langa’s chest. He’s missed this, missed _Langa_ so much these past few days and he’s _hated_ himself for pushing him away like he had. Reki feels like he’s drowning with Langa here in front of him, like this. 

The hand holding Reki’s pulls away, and Reki makes a small hurt noise at the loss of contact. Langa shushes him — not unkindly — and uses the newly freed hand to wrap around Reki’s back. The other hand threads through his hair, and Reki cries harder at the gentleness of the motions.

“How could I ever leave you behind?” Langa asks, like it’s that simple. Like there isn’t any way he could do anything else, _choose_ anyone else.

Reki doesn’t say anything for a while, trying to catch his breath for long enough to form the words he wants to say. Langa doesn’t say anything either, of _course_ he doesn’t, he’s always so patient, and Reki finds it hard to stop the new tears welling up at that thought.

“I mean,” he starts, taking the deepest breath he can manage, “Why me? There are so many other… better skaters out there than me, so why…?”

This time, it’s Langa who takes a while to answer. Reki feels nauseous waiting for him to speak. 

“I… I care about you a… a lot, Reki,” he finally stutters out, and Reki doesn’t need to ask what he means, this time. Reki raises his head and looks at Langa again, and it’s written all over his face.

“Oh. _Oh,”_ he breathes out, and despite the situation they’re in, Reki laughs. Softly, and not for very long, but he laughs. The weight in his chest lifts, just slightly, and he finds it easier to breathe. He meets Langa’s eyes again only to find a stupidly endearing, fond smile on his face, and he ducks his head again, suddenly shy. 

“Me too,” Reki says, and leaves it at that. For now, at least, he doesn’t think he needs to say anything else. Besides, Langa is beaming with pure joy because of _him,_ and Reki thinks that he wouldn’t be able to find the words anyways. 

Langa, with great care, tugs Reki into his side, and lays a soft kiss on his forehead. 

“Okay,” Langa whispers.

“Okay,” Reki answers. “Let’s go home.”

Here is the thing about Reki Kyan. 

Faced with amazing skating like Langa’s, Reki Kyan feels like he pales in comparison, feels like he can never hope to catch up and is therefore doomed to stay in the shadows. And as wonderful as they are, Langa’s words aren’t enough to rid him of these doubts completely. 

But with Langa there by his side to support him, Reki Kyan thinks, for the first time in many days, that he will be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i hope to see you all again soon (well, sooner than three months, anyway)! i have a lot of feelings about these two always, so feel free to hmu on twitter to yell! @ayuslilac


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